It was today that I realised Mum was right. I saw a lot of things through rose coloured glasses or as I prefer to say 'child's eyes'. I went back to a place I spent many a happy time at, Wicksteed Park, expecting the amazing, colourful, massive park that I remember from my youth. I hasten to point out nothing has changed (unfortunately including the minging toilets in that), but suddenly it just all looked so... small. The 'massive' ladybug rollercoaster that I remember being so scared on was about two meters off the floor, the REALLY long road from one end of the park to the other was suddenly really short. I could see the muck and grime that my child's eyes had allowed me to ignore. Suddenly my whole world fell into a dark perspective. Everything had seemed so amazing to me as a kid and I am never going to get that again from simple things.
While I ponder this, I have had to wear a headscarf today on my return because I seem to have suddenly developed the urge to pull my hair out, especially the fringe. The hijab protects me from myself and is comfortable. It is also pink so rather cute. I wish my wheelchair was pink. It is a red Cross one so it is red. I don't mind though because it is useful as I can barely walk five steps without falling. My knee pads are starting to look a bit dodgy! When I move my current doctor has advised me to ask new doctor for an OT (occupational therapy) assessment to find out what, if any, equipment I need to help my mobility. I have been offered the possibility of a walking frame, hopefully not one of those old people ones though! The move is coming up this Friday (It is not a coincidence that the hair pulling has started now) and I am absolutely terrified. I want to talk about it but I just can't. I can't imagine my future right now at all.
I am going to nurse my wheelchair destroyed thumbs now.
Written by
LittleClapham
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Oh no thricotillomania ! When do you do it the most? If it's when your hands are free find something to do with them - anything from squiding a lump of playdough to knitting or crocheting. It's probably due to the stress of moving house and it will probably ease up once you're settled into your new place.
It's weird how when you go back to places that you went to that seemed so large then and they're.....not, it's just you're bigger. My grandmother's brother was the vicar of Cardigan, to me he always seemed a big, scary, man, he wasn't really, it was just the way he looked (not actually that tall, just me being small) pale blue eyes (like my dad and mamgu) and a big nose (er...like me) and could scary looks to scare small children (er..like my dad does now to my neices and nephew to tease them) so really Uncle Alf (to everyone else the Rev Davies) was just teasing and would have money in his pocket for sweets. I always thought he looked like Sam the Eagle from the Muppets.
Whenever my head is uncovered and I start worrying! So pretty much constant at the moment. I've already got a little bald patch growing and I have to keep my bone cap (the bit you put under a hijab) on all day and night to stop myself. It is so frustrating.
I used to live in Kettering so I used to go to wicksteed park too! I do know sort of what you mean - when I first moved there I used to visit with my mum a lot, and it seemed like a really nice happy place - then as I got older and went there it seemed less and less nice, more grimy and run-down...and next week I'll probably be going there for the first time in almost a decade...I dread to think how it'll seem then!!
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On behalf of my daughter aged 11